


not the bitter dead sea

by MMagpieMcCorkle



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Maria Lives, Body Horror, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Car Crash, Implied/Referenced Child Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-03 04:45:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16319435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMagpieMcCorkle/pseuds/MMagpieMcCorkle
Summary: It could eat her up from the inside.[...]She lives.-A (short?) exploration of a universe where Maria lives (and flashbacks to her life before).





	1. not the bitter dead sea

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted on my sideblog: https://getrealfunky.tumblr.com/post/179056499737/not-the-bitter-dead-sea-aka-au-snippet
> 
> also definitely at least partially inspired by Briarwitch's "Injected"; if you've read that, you'll probably see something similar here (i have no idea how to link i'm sorry D:)
> 
>  
> 
> i have no idea if there'll be more tbh it's just a little snippet  
> but i love maria so much i'm so sad about her :'(  
> i knew it was coming but maaaaaaaaaaan

It could eat her up from the inside, could feel the ghost impression like a transposed photograph on her thoughts from it, from it’s _hunger_ (but it holds back, knowing it needs time after watching– the yellow _thing_ , the yellow same-as-it thing, die) and it’s all Maria can do, the rocking.

(Carlton Drake spoke– at her, spoke his vision. She’s heard so many variations of “doing good” but it’s all the same.)

(Carlton Drake spoke at them all.)

(She’ll die here.)

She can almost swear there’s a nibble on her insides – her stomach lining maybe, or _pancreas_ (is the pancreas more likely than the stomach? is it’s diet so picky? like it’s idea of a perfect bond?) (how does she know these things?) ( _i don’t want to know!_ ) – and then a nudge at her brain, at her mind, to look up. But it’s just another guard out of the corner of her eye. No-one else, no-one else, no-one else.

**Look.**

The command hurts, and is barely coherent, but she understands it and feels the compulsion, and looks.

Eddie. _Eddie!_

They’re both at the window, slapping it until Eddie grabs the fire extinguisher and starts slamming it, cracking the glass, cracking it, smashing it to shards and freedom.

She can feel the thing inside her, rifling through her memories in regards to Eddie; fear ripples through her.

Then she lurches forward, her hands no longer hers (but for how long anyway? _it’s hungry eddie it’s hungry please help me–!_ ) reaching for Eddie, for his neck when it should be his hands because she could never hurt him, never–

It’ll leave her. Leave her hollow. But she has no control and it’s her hands and Eddie’s neck and the ground and writhing and it’s leaving and it’s taking–

**Not today.**

It sounds… she swears it sounds smug. It leaves. She lives. She breathes like a fish rolling away from Eddie as it infects him and no, Eddie, Eddie– She’s barely aware she’s screaming _no no no!_ over and over, trying to take the thing back from him because Eddie, Eddie who has given more than she asked and more than he could, doesn’t deserve to die.

Eddie is merely staring up at her, grabbing at her hands and pulling her into a hug as she sobs, relief and fear in equal measure and a billion thoughts ( _am i going to survive? how much did it eat of me? can i get rid of it?_ ) running like a runaway freight train.

“Eddie–!”

“What the fuck was that?”

She doesn’t know, only sobs.

The alarms are blaring. Eddie scrambles to his feet, and pulls her with him. He’s fast.

-

After Eddie carries her out of there, and up into the tree, and back to his apartment, she sleeps, hand over her stomach. She’s fine. She’s _fine_ , right? 


	2. the living are flush-red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Venom, as much as they can take away and devour, can also give back and mend. Not just for Eddie, but for Maria, too.
> 
> If she's willing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> will i ever flesh anything out... (no)
> 
> anyway, the afterwards / post-movie thing c:
> 
> no drafting-redrafting-finalizing we post first drafts like man
> 
> cw/tw for this part: trauma mention, gore mention, pregnancy mention (maybe?), body horror (it gets fixed but u know lol)

Maria knows how to stay hidden. From most things, anyway: people if she didn't want them to look at her (even if she used to stick out, hunched into herself just outside of Mrs Chen's shop), the police, "well-meaning" "Samaritans", her relatives-- anything and anyone.

She'd thought she'd exercised her flexible visibility well enough, along with her seemingly astute sense of danger. Some people give off a slimy aura, others are warm. But the Life Corporation had slipped past those filters, and lured her in. Because she was hungry for something other than another night out on the streets.

At least she's not dead. She'll have nightmares for sure, and she's been sick since escaping (squeezing stomach cramps, mostly), but hey, at least she's alive.

Eddie (and Venom) had noticed. That her stomach cramps had, by the slightest of increments, worsened, leading to being winded and curling in on herself on the couch, eyes squeezed shut as she tried to breathe through the lancing pain. _Like breathing through contractions_ , but that was a thought for another time. Not that she wanted to think about it at all. If she did-

Sometimes, there's the other thought that being out on the streets would be better than sharing space with the two of them and have them seeing her like this. It was Hell, and she'd hesitated, declined and tried looking elsewhere (besides the space between Mrs Chen's store and the newspaper stand) (even then, she wasn't looking too hard; she's tried that before, and-), but Eddie had insisted that it wasn't a problem. Had the gall not to say anything about the bills piling up on his kitchen table.

Somehow, it feels worse than the street. At least there, she didn't feel like a burden - shower water, clothes, food, taking up space when pain made her inconvenient. But, again, Eddie, good Eddie, had insisted it was fine. Never insisted she'd _stay_ , but that it was _fine_. Yeah, it's the nuance; that's why she stayed.

She feels cleaner, anyhow.

-

"Eddie," she starts, eyeing up the coffee table. The overflow of food over plates is mouthwatering to just look at (not that it's fancy or gourmet or whatever, but by Jesus, it's a lot - _c'mon, Eddie_ ), but the smell is still rich like- Maria pushes the thought away.

"C'mon," he insists, gesturing to sit and eat with one arm while deflecting Venom's probing tentacles (arms? they look too semi-fluid to be called either) (whatever) from stealing from the plates. It doesn't work; Maria giggles, watching the back-and-forth banter between Venom and Eddie. _Wait a minute_ vs **We are _hungry_**.

A gurgling noise disrupts the bickering. Maria slaps a hand over her stomach. "Shhh- sorry." Then a squeeze of pain (kidney? stomach? pancreas?) makes her wince. "Ow."

"You OK?"

"Yeah, just - hungry."

Eddie doesn't look away from her just yet, although Maria starts digging in with fingers and eyes. The unbidden thought that there is a trace of tearing on the inside of her body (when Venom was forced there by circumstance - either death in oxygenated air or a multitude of never-quite-matching hosts) hangs over her, ghostlike. It's been a subject of nebulous nightmares: rotting from the inside out, unfixable, necrotized organs becoming thick black fluid and spilling out of her mouth - that sorta thing. Somehow, no worse than some other nightmares she's had.

(Why is it that her mind keeps travelling backwards now?)

( _Home means comfort. Comfort leads to complacency. Complacency leads to memories, and it's only a matter of time-_ )

Her stomach crumples in on itself, tilting her forward on the coffee table, hand over stomach, hand pushing a path through plates and bowls and knocking them over as she tries to breathe it out, begging incoherently _stop it hurts stop it hurts stop it hurts_ , flinching away from Eddie's hands when all he's trying to do is help her onto the couch.

"It _hurts_ , Eddie."

Shivering, cold fingertips, world sideways, but at least Eddie's stroking her hair. It doesn't help, but he's there.

-

Venom still scares her.

No, not quite. What happened in the Life Corporation scared her, and it was only because Venom was hungry.

And _yes_ , she knows that Venom had taken a bite or two out of Eddie, but they'd fixed that and Eddie's fine, now. Better than fine, actually. But Eddie was dying.

... Christ. What does that mean for her?

-

**"Maria."**

She yelps, head snapping up from a half-hearted online search for part-time jobs, the paper ads exhausted.

**"Sorry."**

"It's OK." She closes the tab and turns in her seat to face Venom. Just as well that they're only noodling, an extension from Eddie, and not full-formed. She'd probably freak out.

**"I can fix it-"**

Eddie leans forward, effectively cutting Venom off, and it is forward, because ah, there is something wrong with Maria. She is dying. _Well, so much for job-seeking._ Eddie extends a hand forward, and that could bridge Venom to her, even though she knows nothing will happen unless she says _yes, please fix me, I'd like to live for a little bit more, thanks_.

Maria hums. Holds Eddie's hand. Hesitates. He only squeezes her hand; it grounds her. Nothing bad is gonna happen to her if they do something. The fear still lurks. The memory still lurks. And Venom might taste that, freshly.

"If you can fix it, then... please fix it."

It's slow, completely the opposite of the glass box where the black blob had chased her (escape was impossible, the space too small, but she wasn't letting that _thing_ eat her if she could help it, if she could stave it off for one second more) and she's grateful for that. Perish the memory; they're trying to help her.

Eddie, still grasping her palm in his hand, looks like he's had the wind punched out of him once Venom slips completely under her skin. Must be strange - to have nobody in your head, then having someone like Venom, then, even if it's only for a bit, nobody again.

**Your head is clearer now.**

Well yes, the threat of the unknown isn't splotching towards her-

And it doesn't hurt as much, hearing them there. Only a twinge.

Venom talks clinical, and Eddie reaches for her other hand. It hits her that they must look a strange sight, if anyone could look - seemingly two people holding hands in the middle of an apartment, staring at each other. Perhaps not too strange, but-

**Liver. Kidney.**

"Oh." Should she be dead by now? She repeats: "Liver and kidney, they said." Eddie nods, brow furrowing before relaxing again.

Quiet, as Venom seems to hum and fix internal bitemarks. If that's what they are.

**Not quite.**

She can't tell if they're being factual, or if she's missing out on nuance of tone - if they regret it (must do, surely, because all current evidence points to that), or if they're amused by the idea of actual bitemarks on someone's internal organs. It _could_ be pretty funny, to be fair.

Maybe Eddie understands better.

**Kidney, now.**

"That's quick." A slight laugh; relief.

It doesn't take much more than five minutes, then Venom says they're done and Maria sighs as they slip back to Eddie. Relief, again; Eddie breathes in harshly, and Maria lets go, flexing her fingers.

"Your hands are sweaty."

" _Your_ hands are sweaty," he shoots back, but he's rubbing his hands on his jeans anyway.

-

The next time she feels a stomach cramp, it's only because of how much she's eaten. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey do u know that first scene with eddie and maria? that's so goddamn cute. remember maria's giggle. remember it, i love her


	3. shimmyshake, resolute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maria considers reconciliation with the past, hoping it’ll pave a smoother path for the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sad times! :') because i have Headcanons
> 
> cw/tw for implied past alcholism, child death, divorce, car crash
> 
> also thanks to symbidont's/matskreider's tumblr post about timelines!: https://symbidont.tumblr.com/post/179028861732/little-tidbit-about-the-movie-timeline-but-in-one (i still don't know how to link properly im sorry D:)

It was a joke when Eddie threw out the ‘suggestion’. “Think I should make a new years resolution.” Maria hasn’t bothered with one for three years. Probably closer to four, now.

Never been, by her own will, particularly religious or spiritual, and the only resolution she’d ever considered, _seriously considered_ , was burying everything she had with Markus. Or at least she’s telling herself that; she almost vomits at how quickly petty spite rises up in her.

But maybe.

Eddie’s not serious about it, and she doubts he’d pay attention to Lent, either, but she’s noticed that once the New Year ticked over, paving over the last year, he hasn’t bought anymore beer. Not to say that he’s given up drinking altogether, but she’s not seen any of it in the fridge recently. A week into 2019 and not a drop in the apartment.

Hmm.

She’s bookmarked a job opening for an administrative position -- full-time, contract, previous experience -- and plans on sending a letter tomorrow. God willing, she’ll get it; she’ll need it if she’s planning on a New Year’s Resolution.

-

She hasn’t told Eddie nor Venom about Before. They never asked, and she wouldn’t expect them to.

But God, she can’t stop thinking about it.

(She could _never_ stop thinking about it, homeless or co-habiting.)

The memories flood back worse than before, and muddled with the Life Foundation -- her son, her daughter, Markus. The crash. _Fucking drunk bastard that he was--_

Again, spite, no matter how right it felt, tasted like acid.

She’d considered looking Markus up, see if he was still alive. If he was recovering. If he was better, or worse, or in perpetual motion. But she figures it would only undo her, set her backwards, and she’d like to be one her feet and running forward before she sees a professional.

Oof. Skirting around _that_ , right now. But eventually she will. With her own cent and dollar, thank you, Eddie.

 _Fuck it._ She’ll send in her resume now.

(She wonders how much, if any, Venom could see in her, when they were there.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (whispers) i take prompts
> 
> ALSO... i read everyone's comments and thank y'all so much!! ;;v;; sorry i don't reply just know that they mean A LOT to me... <3 ;v;


End file.
